American Horror Story Character Imagines/Preferences

first date 💝.

Murder house

Tate: You smiled as you approached your house. You thought back to the call you'd gotten from your aunt earlier. She said that Tate, your boyfriend, had asked very politely if the two of you could have the downstairs to yourself that night for something special. She ended the call by yelling "use protection!". As you got closer though, your smile morphed into a repulsed sneer. It smelt like burnt garbage. You quickly stuck your keys in the big door and opened it to reveal a very frazzled looking Tate scraping something black into the garbage can. Unlit candles lined the walk way and you could hear your favorite song playing faintly. Tate dropped the pan into your trash can with a subtle "ah! Fuck.." You laughed at his reaction, bringing a hand up to your mouth to silence yourself. His head snapped up to you now, and it looked like he was about to break at any moment. You approached him slowly, as you would a scittish animal. You met him at the trash can, neither of you speaking, only staring at the burnt remains in the pan. "What was it?" He sighed and scratched the back of his head with the oven mitt still on, not meeting your eyes. "Lasagna." You smiled and bit your lip. ".. My favorite." You giggled at his defeated form as he slid against the wall of your kitchen. You joined him sitting on the floor. "Romeo, this is the sweetest thing anyone's ever tried to do for me." You smiled, sneaking your hand into the big oven mit to hold his. "You're not mad?" He said, smiling a little pathetically. "Mad, no. Hungry, yes." You said, pulling him up to stand and tying your hair back. "Come on, let's try again." The two of you scowered your kitchen for ingredients and found something to throw together. Tate took the throwing part a little too seriously though, and the night ended in a food fight, lots of laughs, and ordering a pizza.

Violet: Violet invited you out to a movie, and when you got in her car, you realized she had absolutely no idea what she was doing. "So what are we going to see?" "No clue, I don't even know what's playing if I'm being honest." "You're kidding." You deadpanned as she fiddled with the radio. "Not kidding. I wanted you to pick, and since I know what bad taste you have, I didn't want to get my hopes up for anything I wanted to see." You scoffed. "Actually, Vi, I have impeccable taste. World renowned." "Then explain why you're dating me." She quipped casting you a smirk and a wink before returning her eyes to the road. "Because, you taste," you leaned over in the car to press your glossy lips to her pale cheek. You could smell her lavender perfume and it made you sigh shortly in happiness. "amazing." You both laughed and turned the radio up full blast. You rolled down the window and let your hair get tangled curls, basking in the spring air. From the moment you got out of the car, to the end of the film, you couldn't keep your hands off each other. Not in a lustful way, of course, though as you discussed, neither of you would object to some PDA. It was just casual clinging. Holding hands, arms around each other's necks, teasing about who was the dom in the relationship, small sweet sticky kisses on cheeks and noses. The movie was nothing so impressive, but the way that Violet's eyes smiled whenever some stupid joke would play or when your hands would casually fight over popcorn kernels, made it an afternoon to remember.

Asylum

Lana: You were surprised when you opened your door, not to find Lana, but a gentleman in a fine suit and gloves. "Yes?" You said cautiously. "Ms. (L/n)?" You nodded shortly as he continued. "Ms. Winters is down below waiting for you." You hesitated, grabbing your purse and following the man down the steps of your apartment building. He led you out to a very nice car, not quite a limousine, but you knew Lana could afford one if she wanted to. He opened the door for you, and your heart finally beat normally when you saw your new girlfriend waiting inside. You stepped in and she patted the spot next to her. "Am I underdressed?" You said, smiling in mock, examining her beautiful outfit that was color coordinated head-to-toe. "Of course not. If you were wearing a garbage bag, you could make it look hot. I just like to do a little something extra when I know I'll be in public for an extended period." "Gotcha.." You said, unsure of her attitude as the car began moving. You arrived at a fancy new restaurant you'd only just heard of and stepped out, mouth agape. "Lana, I.. You didn't have to do this." You said. "And yet, I did." She smiled, taking your bare hand in her gloved one and kissing the back of it. You looked her over, smiling back, but trying to see past the large sunglasses to get to her warm Brown eyes. A flash interrupted you and you squinted at where it came from. Suddenly you were surrounded by photographers and fellow reporters asking jumbled questions. "What the hell?" You asked no one and both of you were ushered inside the restaurant. "I'm sorry, baby. A small part of me knew that would happen. What can I say?" She smiled and her bottom lip slipped easily through her teeth. You were guided to a table very close to the window, photographers audible outside. "Mm, what looks good to you?" She asked, looking over a menu. You let out a scoff you had been holding in, trying to read the menu. "Umm. I- I don't know any of this." "Oh, of course, I'm sorry how stupid of me. It's all in French... What do you like?" She smiled up at you. You squinted your eyes a bit, confused at her personality. "Take your glasses off." You said.  "Hmm?" She said before a woman walked up to your table and leaned down a bit in front of Lana. "I'm sorry, are you Lana Winters?" She asked sweetly. Lana finally removed her dark sunglasses and smiled, rolling her eyes a little at you, but you didn't smile in the slightest. "That's me. She autographed and napkin and practically pushed the girl aside. "Sorry about that, it comes with the cars." She chuckled. "Lana. I don't know what's going on." You said honestly.  You weren't sure what else to say. You had never seen this side of her. It was professional, detached almost; like she was putting on a show for everyone but you. Lana sighed through her nose but her smile stayed true. "Y'see I haven't been with anyone publicly since Wendy. It's only natural that the people would want to know about you. About us." You shook your head, folding the menu closed and placing it on the table. "They don't care about me, Lana. They only care about you because you're becoming a household name and they know they can sell you. And you know that too, you're a reporter." You said and she cut in, smile gone. "Im a journalist." "Am I just a publicity stunt to you?" You asked honestly, feelings growing hurt. "Of course not!" She said seriously, reaching out for your hand on the table. "Then come out with me. Let's go back to my place, no press, no fans, just you and me." You said. "If not, I can walk away right now.. This place doesn't even have milshakes." You said, your disposition trying to lighten the heavy mood you just created. You had to say it though. She paused, looking around the restaurant, before finding her answer in your eyes and smiling. "How are we going to get out?" You smiled back and the two of you snuck away to the bathroom, crawling out of a window. You laughed at the ridiculous escape as the pair of you scurried around the corner. A reporter saw you and drew the attention of his cohorts. "There they are!" "Shit!" Lana laughed and took your hand running in the opposite direction of your apartment, which you quickly corrected, cracking up yourself. The two of you made it up to your apartment unscathed, laughing and still out of breath. You looked at her, much more the Lana you were used to seeing, better even. Her smile was bright and her cheeks were flushed. You shook your head at her beauty and walked away to get the ingredients to make the milkshakes. As the two of you were creating them, and the room grew quiet, she confessed. "I'm sorry, (Y/n). I am. When I get in front of a camera I just.. something shifts in me. I'm not Lana Banana, goofy reporter out of her depth. I'm Lana Winters, survivor of a maniac, escapee from Briarcliff, I'm the bitch who got it shut down for Christ's sake." She said, pausing to blend. She met your eyes. "My ambition distracts me from what's really important." She came to you taking your hand and staring into your eyes deeply. "And that's you." She said. Just as you were about to share what would have been a very meaningful kiss, your cat Lemon jumped on the counter, scaring the absolute shit out of Lana. You laughed and eventually she did too before you interrupted her and kissed her anyways.
(If you haven't seen Sarah Paulson scared, you absolutely have to, it's adorable and hilarious)